


a feeling that you fear

by hurricanedelta



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Humor, Boys Kissing, Coming Out, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurricanedelta/pseuds/hurricanedelta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kei knew, and he understood this fact very well. Boys weren’t <i>supposed</i> to have crushes on other boys. Boys weren’t <i>supposed</i> to want to want to run their fingers through another boy’s hair, to kiss them, to touch them, to want to hold their hands and spend special moments together. They weren’t <i>supposed</i> to have those strange, warm feelings in their hearts when a cute boy smiled at them, or was even the slightest bit caring towards them. They weren’t <i>supposed</i> to like the idea of the deepness of their voices, the crinkles of their eyes, the curves of their lips, and lord forbid their chests, and their arms, and their legs, and hands, and butts, and everything else.</p><p>Boys weren't <i>supposed</i> to like other boys, but that was just Kei's luck, wasn't it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	a feeling that you fear

The first time Kei saw a boy kissing another boy, his father hurried him and his brother away, telling them not to look at the two, and not to speak a word of what they saw. He was six. Akiteru was protesting, telling their father that he wanted ice cream, and the best ice cream shop near their house was the one right on the end of the street, but their father would have none of it.

Kei didn’t really understand it, they were just kissing. His mother and father did it all the time. He asked Akiteru, who was still sulking about his ice cream, and Akiteru shrugged, and told him that he didn’t really know either. Akiteru told him that it didn’t make sense to avoid those two boys when there was perfectly good ice cream at the end of the street, and they weren’t hurting anybody.

Kei asked his father, who told him that what those boys were doing wasn’t right, and that kind of _immoral act_ was not something that could be done in public, or even at home. Kei didn’t understand, but he nodded anyway. His father was a very smart man; after all, he could help Kei with _all_ of his maths problems.

Kei asked his mother why boys couldn’t kiss other boys, and his mother asked where he got that idea from. He told her, and she laughed good naturedly, just as she always did, and told him that a person can love whomever they want. He nodded, thinking her words sounded much better than his fathers, but when his father found out what he thought he was taught in a much firmer way that what they were doing was a _sin._

His father told him that those boys were doing something just as bad as hurting another person, and Kei nodded. He didn’t really understand, because the idea of kissing another boy like that wasn’t all that bad to him, but he nodded and accepted it anyway. Doing something as innocent as that with someone you cared about wasn’t hurting someone, nor was it breaking any rules, or influencing any sort of hatred or ill spirits, but Kei nodded anyway.

 _That’s the way it is_ , his father told him, conditioned him. _You can’t do things like that_ , Kei was told in disgust. _What will everyone think?_ A social ideal inflicted on him like a sword in the gut. _Their poor parents…_ he was told to think of, to feel sorry for. _Doing such things is an act against human nature_. 

When he was seven, there were little boys in the playground teasing and bullying another. They kept asking him if he was _gay_ , as if it was something poisonous. They told him that being _gay_ was bad, and if you are gay you won’t have any friends ever. Kei asked his mother what it meant, and she reminded him of the two boys in front of the ice cream shop. The two boys who were doing nothing but showing their affection for each other, but were apparently doing something so abhorrent that everyone looked down on them.

Being gay must have been a wicked thing, Kei thought to himself, and he didn’t question it any further. If people reacted this way then _he_ obviously couldn't be gay, could he?

He buried the thoughts of the boy with the pretty eyes and cute smile in his class deep down, and focused entirely on his schoolwork and his volleyball. There was nothing else to it. No questions asked, no further wondering or pondering or anything of the sort. Only the things that mattered, the things that would get him somewhere.

☆☆☆☆

 _Gay_ was the worst insult a boy could be given, Kei soon began to realise. Whenever a boy was too nice, too quiet, or too happy, all the mean kids in the class would round in on him and call him _gay._ Call him _fag_. Tell him that he wasn’t really a man, because men aren’t _supposed_ to like other men, they are supposed to like girls and marry girls and not want anything to do with men.

As he got older the insults got worse. They’d always pick on the weakest link until he cried, until they were satisfied that they had weaselled the _gay_ out of this poor kid. Sometimes, if he didn’t cry, they’d hit him, and throw his books around, and push him around until he broke, until he had the gay beaten out of him. Until he had something that was completely innocent, completely normal and okay broken and snatched from him.

To them, the mere _idea_ of two men being in a relationship was something so disgusting, something that needed to be fixed, because heaven forbid someone wanted to be in a relationship with someone they cared about. Heaven forbid someone strayed from what was supposedly ‘right’, when there really wasn’t a _right_ or a _wrong_ answer when it came to liking someone, to loving someone.

He was nine when he met Yamaguchi Tadashi, and this boy was bullied _immensely._ The kid was small, and fragile, crying when they threw his books around a little. He would be called all these awful names, making fun of his looks, his personality, teasing him to the point of extortion, telling him it’s for his own good. They would force him to carry their things like a slave, or a pack mule, because obviously there was no better way to extort someone than to make them do menial labour at no cost to them.

Kei knew full well that Yamaguchi wouldn’t come talk to him about it, confide in him with his issues, and he knew that he was under the impression that hanging around bigger people would help him, but it really wouldn’t. He was under the impression that just ignoring them will make them go away, but kids wanted a reaction, and they will stop at _nothing_ to get one. Kids were ruthless, especially when it came to hurting another.

One day, they finally said it. They asked if the reason he hung around Kei was if he had a _crush_ on him, and Yamaguchi didn’t say anything, he stayed quiet, didn’t react, and they took it the wrong way and they said it, they said all of those nasty things to Yamaguchi and Kei just couldn’t, he couldn’t—

“I hope you know you’re pathetic,” he tells them in the most condescending voice he has ever managed to pull, which was quite the achievement for him, and they all turn to him, startled, “What the hell do you gain from this? Huh?”

They took one look at him, one look at Yamaguchi, and turned around and ran, and Yamaguchi let out a huge breath and Kei stiffened at it. Yamaguchi turned around to him, apologetic.

“Sorry you had to do that, Tsukki—“

“Never apologise for that,” Kei tells him sternly, holding a hand out for him to hold, “My mother is making fries, come on.” And so Yamaguchi took his hand, and Kei took note of how rough his hands were, with all of the callouses and cuts and differences between a girls hand, and he had a very weird feeling in his stomach.

Holding hands with a boy, _his best friend_ (only friend) shouldn’t feel so nice.

☆☆☆☆ 

It was in junior high when it was solidified. When they started being given sexual education, and how they kept going on about how a _man_ should treat _a woman_ , and when one brave soul even _dared_ to ask about same sex safety, she was sent to the vice principal for asking such a _vulgar_ , o _bscene, sinful_ question, and when the teacher lectured the whole group that no matter what happens, no act of this nature should be performed with a person of the opposite gender. Those who did not do this, were doing _the wrong thing_ , and utterly _deserved_ to get punished. That a boy is not _supposed_ to like another boy, and a girl was not _supposed_ to like another girl.

Kei knew, and he understood this fact very well. Boys weren’t _supposed_ to have crushes on other boys. Boys weren’t _supposed_ to want to want to run their fingers through another boy’s hair, to kiss them, to touch them, to want to hold their hands and spend special moments together. They weren’t _supposed_ to have those strange, warm feelings in their hearts when a cute boy smiled at them, or was even the slightest bit caring towards them. They weren’t _supposed_ to like the idea of the deepness of their voices, the crinkles of their eyes, the curves of their lips, and lord forbid their chests, and their arms, and their legs, and hands, and butts, and everything else.

It was just his luck, the idea of talking other people was already bad enough. Now he had to add the fact that he liked _boys_ to the equation. Him, a boy himself, someone who was often considered intimidating and often quite mean, was attracted to boys. If this were to ever be found out, oh god, he could never step a foot outside of his bedroom again. He couldn’t face the public eye when he was actively such a _disgraceful_ person.

It was just his luck, as he was _popular_ with girls. They found his cool attitude and distance something attractive, so every other week there was a confession letter dropped into his locker, or a very tiny, very cute girl standing in front of him, asking for his phone number. It wasn’t that they weren’t nice, he was sure they were very nice, and that they would make very lovely girlfriends and really, truly and deeply care about their boyfriends. He just… 

Even if he did get a girlfriend in an attempt to push it all away, to hide who he was, who he liked, it would eat him alive. The idea of a girl trying to kiss him, hug him, do _couple_ things with him made him feel almost physically ill. He could never give her the same as she would give him, and anything he did give would be a complete and utter lie.

Boys weren’t _supposed_ to like other boys, but hell, that was just Kei’s luck, wasn’t it?

Tsukishima Kei absolutely did not like boys, and he was never going to. He was going to wait for the perfect girl to come and sweep her off her feet, he was going to marry this perfect girl and have kids and live up to everyone’s expectations and make his mother proud and his brother a happy uncle, and he was going to be the happiest husband to the most beautiful wife possible.

Why did this sound so wrong to him?

☆☆☆☆

On the break before the start of High School, his older brother had come home with his new girlfriend.

This fact didn’t especially bother him, aside from the fact that he was almost forcibly dragged from his room to greet her. She was nice, he guessed, but everything about her was just so… wrong. She didn’t suit his brother at all, and she was constantly pestering and complimenting him, as though it would make him like her more. She was sort of… annoying. And she was overly cheerful and upbeat. Exhausting. Kei didn’t really understand why Akiteru liked her, but it wasn’t really his choice.

The worst thing that could have happened had happened on that night, though. A discussion of LGBT rights that had exploded somewhere in America. It was a brutal debate, and the news reporters discussing it where taking very extreme, opposite ends of the spectrum. Akiteru’s girlfriend (Kamiko? Kameyo? Kei did not remember her name, nor particularly care for it) scoffed, and the loud mouth gave her opinion very brash and clear.

“I don’t get it. Can’t they just be happy with what they have now? Ugh, at least they aren’t hunted down.” She rolled her eyes, and the silence at the table was endless. It wasn’t fighting what she said.

_Oh._

“Like, if they are so desperate for their rights they should be actually fighting for them, and not flaunting their _wrongness_ in our faces.”

_Oh…_

“You can’t be so _hypocritical_ to think that straight people can do PDA without any sort of punishment and gay people can’t, can you?” Kei demanded, staring her directly in the eye. It was a challenge. A declaration of war.

“Kei!” his father exclaimed, firm and loud, “Room. Now.”

_Oh, I see…_

“I’m allowed an opinion, aren’t I?” He rounded on his father, and he didn’t know why he felt the need to attack people on this, but he was just so _angry_ , and so _upset_ , and he couldn’t help but lash out. “Or am I to just shut my mouth on things I believe in and _lie_?”

“Yes! _Especially_ about this. Now get to your room before I drag you there myself, Kei.”

Kei scoffed, rolled his eyes, and ran up to his room, and he didn’t know why his eyes stang so much until he caught himself in the mirror tucked away on his desk, and he saw his cheeks bright red and eyes squinted and bloodshot, tears rolling down his cheeks, and he choked back a sob and face planted into his pillow, not daring to come back out until breakfast the next morning. Even then, he did not speak a word, only ate his rice in silence and retreated back into his room as soon as he was done. He missed the look his mother gave him, the worried glance, his father, the stern disapproval.

Kei, age fifteen, still didn’t understand, and he had no _choice_ but to accept it. He wasn’t gay, he wasn’t gay, he wasn’t gay, he wasn’t gay. He absolutely, positively, was not gay.

Kei wasn’t gay, and when his father dragged him into his bedroom and lectured him on social behaviour, on what was _right_ and what was _wrong_ , and how these sorts of wrong opinions ruin a persons reputation, he absolutely was _not gay_.

He wasn’t gay, because all he could picture was the look of disappointment etched onto his fathers face, along with the disgust, the repulsion. He wasn’t gay, because he imagined his mothers face if she ever found out that he liked boys, the way her nose would scrunch up like when she took his sneakers out to the porch. He wasn’t gay, because even though he wasn’t talking to his brother, the look of betrayal and hatred on his brother’s face was absolute torture to him, and made him want to claw out of his own skin, be who he was not. He wasn’t gay, because he couldn’t stand the idea of Yamaguchi leaving him, the only person who bothered to stick around and see him for who he was.

Kei wasn't gay, because he couldn’t face the reality that the people he cared about most would probably hate him.

☆☆☆☆

There was an open lesbian at Karasuno.

Kei learned this in his first week when he walked past class five to see one of his teachers about a homework question, when he heard the whispers, the taunts, and most importantly, the quiet, jogging claps of shoes hitting the hallways.

_Did you hear? Suzuki-chan likes girls, how disgusting. Immoral._

_I wouldn’t mind being in a threesome with that dyke._

_Fag bitch._

Kei tried his damnedest to ignore it, but when he saw the girl, saw her being surrounded by boys so much bigger, so much meaner than her, calling her names, telling her it’s _just a phase_ , telling her that she needs _the gay beaten out of her_ , he couldn’t help the lump rising in his throat.

She walked through it all, headstrong, facing forward and never making a horrible remark to anyone. Yamaguchi told Kei that he saw her on his way home while Kei was almost blatantly staring at her from the corner of her eye. Kei turned his head to face him, waiting how he’d react to the situation.

“She was crying, Tsukki,” his voice was sad, sorry, “I went over to ask if she was alright, but she told me to get lost. I think she thought I was going to say something horrible to her.”

“Hmm…”

“It’s just horrible the way they’re treating her. What’s it matter that she’s a lesbian?” Yamaguchi sighed, leaning his head on his arms. His hair brushed against Kei’s arm, and Kei just rolled his eyes. It didn’t, Kei wanted to tell them all, it didn’t affect them _in the slightest_ , but they still bothered her about something that was not even her fault.

“The people who are being horrible are pretty pathetic.”

Yamaguchi nodded, “Who even cares… it’s not like it directly effects any of them, anyway.”

That day after school, Yamaguchi and Kei dropped off their club application forms, the two were going to Yamaguchi’s house to do their homework together, when they saw her on the swing set, legs dangling down, head low.

Yamaguchi called out to her, “Suzuki-san, it’s going to rain soon.”

But when she looked up at them, oh, when she looked up at them Kei could feel something physically be torn from him. She was absolutely terrified, she was shaking and her face was red and scrunched up, and the idea of someone’s voice that she had heard before was something that honestly looked like it had scared the life out of her.

Kei pictured the cool head of the girl in the hallway, ignoring all the comments as she went about her own business. Then he returned to reality, to this tiny, terrified young girl, and he felt the tear, the rip in his heart grow. She was obviously alarmed, and Yamaguchi took a step towards her.

“Suzuki-san…?” he tried again, and she nodded, picking up her bad from beside her, and slinging it over her shoulder, and trying to make herself look as small as possible. “Get home safely.”

The kindness Yamaguchi showed her, the kindness that someone who _understood_ how shitty it was to be picked on, the feeling of physical drain and the ache in the heart at the mean comments, was something she was obviously not used to. Kei stood back, doing nothing but watch her, and he tried his best not to let anything but a neutral look lie on his face, and she took one look at the two of them, and nodded.

“Same to you, Yamaguchi-kun, Tsukishima-kun,” she was so polite, and the tear got even worse. She walked past the two of them, and didn’t spare them another look as she jogged down the hill, far away from both of them. Kei joined Yamaguchi, who sighed and clutched his bag tighter.

“She looked so upset, I wish there was something I could do…”

Kei stayed silent, afraid that any word he spilled out might be too emotional, too personal, too upsetting. He couldn’t easily tell his best friend that standing up for her was basically suicide, especially when he was an easy enough target as it was. He couldn't tell Yamaguchi that he wanted to stand up for her _so bad_ , because no matter what a person is, they don’t deserve relentless bullying. He knew that if they reported it, the school wouldn’t care, because she was getting bullied for being _gay_ , of all of the things. He knew that if they reported anyone else, there would be no hesitation, but it was because of something she couldn’t even _help_ , she had to endure it.

“It going to rain soon.” Kei told him, and Yamaguchi snapped out of his thoughts, and nodded up at Kei.

“Let’s get a move on, then!”

Kei didn’t have the heart to tell Yamaguchi what was on his mind when he kept getting distracted from their work. He didn’t have the heart to tell him that the second he arrived back at his house, and the rain started, his mother called him for dinner and the second he finished he threw it all back up. He didn’t have the heart to tell him that he spent the rest of his night shaking and sobbing in the bathroom because he just couldn’t accept one stupid fact. He didn’t have the heart to tell him that when he texted him that night, telling him to go to sleep early, because they had a practice match the next morning, he stared at his ceiling until midnight, where he choked and begun crying again, until the exhaustion set in, and he woke up with a scratchy throat and awful headache.

He didn’t have the heart to tell himself that it was going to be okay.

☆☆☆☆

The Karasuno High School Boys Volleyball Club was the loudest and most annoying group Kei had ever had the misfortune of being in.

There were a few tolerable things about it, Kei supposed. It distracted him from all of the thoughts swimming around in his head, keeping his mind occupied with the other side of the court. It also gave him a few people to tease, because their reactions were always golden. Nishinoya was the only one who really ever teased back, giving him the occasional quip or insult in return. Most of the time it was just followed by threats, so it gave him something to do.

The third years were all tolerable, and comparably calm to the terrors he had to deal with on a daily basis. Hinata and Kageyama (Shorty and Dumbass) were loud and exhausting, and didn’t know the meaning of the word relaxing. Tanaka was easily razzed, and had a rambunctiously loud laugh that never seemed to end. Nishinoya was enthusiastic, but could snark right back at him.

This group of people that he was surrounded with sure were a hell of a distraction, only discussing things that happened with each other. They never teased or made fun of anyone that wasn’t with the twelve of them, and they all knew how to laugh.

Sugawara gave good advice that seemed to apply to almost anything that was wrong, as though he was a psychic; he had a calm presence that always seemed to have the right answer. Azumane had the same sort of effect, but in a different way – he could read the person in question better and tell you different techniques. Tanaka’s advice was brash and generally quite reckless, but he always meant well and would find the way in the end. Sawamura was very much like a father (not Kei’s own, but a father none-the-less) when it came to almost all situations. Ennoshita was strict and calm and Kei really didn’t have anything to do with him.

Surprisingly, Nishinoya gave quite good advice (surprising, because his brain seemed to lack anything of any sort of substance that wasn’t volleyball or a stupid joke or prank). He could never really explain how he knew, but his natural extroversion meant that he always knew the right word to say to the right person, even the most introverted front Kei could put up.

The team was always able to help, even if nobody really asked. They all seemed to know, and understand each other. They could read each others emotions so well, even if Kei had only known them for a very long time.

It was after the win against Aoba Johsai in the practice match that the word _gay_ was mentioned. It was more in passing, a quick comment, something Kei would never have expected. Nishinoya mentioned something about a cousin and his boyfriend, and Hinata (the loudmouth) asked if he was gay, and Nishinoya confirmed it, and Kei’s eyes jump over to Nishinoya’s, who caught his, and gave him the tiniest look of consideration, before going back to the conversation at hand.

Kei didn’t really know how to react, so he avoided all eye contact and stuffs his fists into his pockets. There were no comments, no remarks or judgements or anything of the sort, only acceptance and happy laughter and _nothing_ like he expected.

It made Kei feel warm inside. Not that it affected him, no. Absolutely not.

☆☆☆☆

Kei is walking to Yamaguchi’s home on a Sunday when he spots Suzuki-chan on the swing set again, only this time, she wasn’t alone.

He noticed the movement in the shadows before he saw them, and even though he hadn’t even taken off his headphones he knew that the only sound coming from her was happy, truly happy.

Kei watched from afar as the two girls chatted happily, kicking their legs back and forth, the skirt the other girl was wearing going wild, and Suzuki-chan’s ripped jeans hugged her legs tightly. Suzuki-chan’s loose braids flew behind her back, a stark contrast to the bright, short hair the unknown girl had. Suzuki-chan was laughing at something the other had said, and Kei would liken the other to a bouquet of flowers in the hand of a hopeful lover.

He watched as the unknown girl stopped, and she reached over and kissed Suzuki-chan, and Suzuki-chan smiled and ran her fingers through her choppy hair. His stare was longing, afraid. He feared that for himself, but being happy with someone who made him happy was all he wanted. Terrified. Expectations. Retribution. Society. Judgement. Anxious. Terrified. Afraid.

Yamaguchi was waiting, Kei reasoned, and he walked past them, turning up his music to drown out the thoughts that he absolutely didn’t want to have, and skipped anything that had anything remotely to do with romance. Afraid. Afraid. He was afraid. 

The small moment the two had, the intimacy and the innocence, Kei couldn’t help but wonder if all the people who had made fun of her and hurt her knew of the gentle happiness the two had. He couldn’t help but wonder if their tiny, inconsiderate brains could grasp the concept of other people being happy.

He bites his lip, and sucks in a breath. Afraid. Tsukishima Kei was a god damn coward.

☆☆☆☆

Nekoma’s captain was one of the most beautiful people Kei had seen. The most beautiful if you disregard the shitty hairstyle that didn’t seem to go down, no matter how much he sweat during Hinata’s thousand matches. The most beautiful if you disregard his shifty eyes, the way they’d dance across the court, observing, challenging, hunting for prey. The most beautiful, if you disregard the fact that Kei wasn’t gay. Absolutely not.

So, Nekoma’s captain was a pretty boy. Objectively speaking, he had a very nice face. It curved and flattened at all the right angles and the fact that he was two years older than Kei showed, as his face had the right mix of maturity and silliness. His eyes, shifty as hell, shone in the light, and even at a distance Kei could tell that they were a brilliant gold. And, as a fellow middle blocker, yes, he did have a very good body. It was far more muscular than Kei’s own, being able to jump just as high as Kei, if not higher, and with far more blocking power. He knew just the right place to jump, at the perfect timing. He also consistently dived for balls, but never once did he land wrong, like he was a cat, just as their _neko_ nickname suggested. 

Objectively speaking, Kei wasn't finding find himself staring as he played _at all_. He was just… admiring a player that was so much better than him, a player that happened to be a champion of one of Tokyo’s really good teams. He was adding all of these new things to his memory banks for later use, to show off. Yes, that was what he was doing… He was simply learning from someone who had far more experience than him – like a student watches their mentor.

He had hoped no one had caught on (most of his teammates were blithering idiots, too focused on the opponents than him), and as he watched Hinata and the other middle blocker from Nekoma bounce around in excitement, yelling things that Kei couldn’t possibly even hope to translate it in his wildest dreams. Probably something about how Nekoma’s number seven stopped Hinata’s _freakish_ quick, and how he was able to do it. If they managed to stop asking each other pointless questions.

But then, then the man in question came over, and he talked to _Kei_ , and his hair was even shitter up close, and his eyes twinkled even brighter, and his shitty smirk was blinding, but no, Kei totally wasn’t thinking about how soft his lips looked as he casually spoke about the overexcited first years in front of them, or Kei. Kei totally wasn’t wondering how soft his hair was, even if it stuck up that much. Kei totally wasn’t thinking about how it would feel to kiss Nekoma’s captain as they headed back to Karasuno, and hours after that.

Curse fated rivals, making him think about such things. Such things that he was taught were wrong to think about, no matter how much Kei really wanted to, and _liked_ thinking about.

Pathetic.

☆☆☆☆ 

Debate over same sex marriage had gotten rather heated as of late.

Many European countries were starting to legalise it, so the push on those who hadn’t (and those who had absolutely no plans to, nor desire to) was becoming increasingly strong. State after state in America was starting to do it, too, and the United States’ influence on the world was almost overwhelming. Even Australia’s current leader was getting pushed into it, even if nothing was coming of it. The increase in acceptance internationally is bringing the pressure onto Japan, and by extension, causing the issue to have more screen time. Kei only knew this out of coincidence, because he knew that _actively searching_ for this information and forming a positive opinion on it was practically social suicide.

Kei’s father scoffed at the news, finding new ways to insult it without actually insulting it (after what had happened last time, this is not surprising; the _radical_ views of a confused youth can do that to an ignorant adult). The boys in class would laugh at it, and the girls would complain about the idea of another girl looking at them in the change rooms. Nothing changed in club, other than Nishinoya talking more commonly about his cousin, but otherwise, the same. Sometimes Nishinoya would stare at him, but when Kei asks if he’s admiring the view, Nishinoya snarks him, and they have a battle of the wits.

In the days leading up to the summer training camp, the team was spending progressively more time together, and Kei was almost _painfully_ aware that they were going to be versing Nekoma, and by extension, their captain. Almost as though it was all they could talk about, the prospect of versing their fated rivals once more was one that could not be easily trumped, especially for idiots with their heads trapped in volleyball.

Perhaps Kei’s blood was starting to boil, whether it be from contempt because of his shitty hair, or excitement for what was to come (or, lack of excitement, sort of). Nekoma’s captain had an uncanny ability to get on people’s nerves, and he was the type of person you would remember for it. The captain named _The Provocation Expert_ , just Kei’s luck – someone who had such a similarity to him.

So what if Kei didn’t know his name, he’d probably find out soon enough. Maybe. If he were to talk to Mr. Captain (Catptain?), which he isn’t going to. Intentionally at least. Kei made it his business not to approach him, only watch (not watch, observe) from afar. To pick up new techniques, to observe someone far better than himself.

This was made a lot harder when Mr Captain called out to him ( _Megane-kun_ , he had called Kei), and he picked up Fukurodani’s captain calling him Kuroo. Fine, Kuroo it was.

So, Kuroo called him to practice his blocking, then he has the audacity to insult him, so Kei picked himself up and bolted the second he got a chance. Of _course_ he wasn’t Hinata, but that didn’t seem to matter to Kuroo (or maybe it did, Kei couldn’t discern it from his own self-worth).

And now he was being roped into practice with them once again, after Yamaguchi confronting him, after discovering what makes volleyball so _important_ to people like Bokuto, to people like Kuroo and Hinata and Kageyama and Akaashi, and people like his brother, who suffer.

Perhaps it wasn’t too bad.

☆☆☆☆

Bokuto and Akaashi were holding hands. In public. Like it was a casual thing to do.

It was a very innocent sort of touch, Kei realised, something that only came from being around someone for an extended amount of time. The way Bokuto grabbed Akaashi’s hand like it was nothing, threading their fingers together and smiling at Akaashi like he was in the entire world. Bokuto was grabby, yes, the way he wrapped his arm around Kei’s shoulders as if it was nothing, the way he clapped everyone on the back, ruffled their hair as praise, high fived and hugged Kuroo and did all this absolute stupid _shit_ that really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but this was different. This was gentle, private. It was deliberate and soft and reserved just for his setter and Kei really didn’t know how to react.

Their hands rested together comfortably, as though they had done this one thousand times beforehand. Bokuto’s voice had dropped significantly as he talked to the shorter boy, and Akaashi was now talking more often, stringing together longer sentences and occasionally laughing at whatever Bokuto had said.

It made Kei stare. He watched the way they interacted with his lips parted ever so slightly, eyes wider than usual, the gold twinkling with both worry and _hope_ , because if two people like them could do something so unaccepted, why could he? It also made him scared. It made his heart squeeze in absolute terror of any sort of consequence.

Did they not _care_ what people would think? Do they not care about the obvious social taboo and idea that the two would put out by doing that? Or were they truly that naïve? But then, oh god, then Akaashi leaned up and he kissed Bokuto on the cheek and Kei could feel his stomach being lifted to his throat, as he watched the corners of Akaashi’s mouth lift and his eyes brighten like the world was all alright and Kei couldn’t help but look away, as if he was intruding on something quiet, special.

Kuroo noticed this, of course. That bastard noticed everything. He noticed every little twitch of Kei’s lip, the insecurity that he could shield in everything but his eyes. He noticed the way Kei would link his fingers together whenever he was nervous, and the way he adjusted his glasses when he was annoyed. Kuroo noticed every movement he made and could give an accurate judgement on _exactly_ what Kei was feeling with absolutely no effort. This annoyed Kei to no end.

It annoyed Kei when, when he looked away, his gaze meeting the first thing it could, he met with Kuroo’s eyes, staring at him with mild curiosity. It annoyed Kei when the amber of his cat eyes looked at him _knowingly_ , like he understood exactly what thoughts were running through Kei’s head at that very moment. It annoyed Kei when his lips were left in that never ending smirk that made him look like he knew all of Kei’s secrets, and Kei had the sneaking suspicion that he was starting to uncover the most important of them all as he moved closed.

Kei cleared his throat, and Kuroo stopped in his tracks. “Cute, aren’t they?” he asks Kei, who nearly snaps his next from spinning around far too quickly. Kuroo spoke as if it was _normal_ , acceptable in the society that they lived in. Hell, he spoke _fondly_ of the two in front of them.

“They’re… together?” Kei tries to find the right word for it, and Kuroo laughs and nods at his sudden shyness.

“Have been for a while,” he tells Kei with no sarcastic comment, or condescending look, “I totally called it, though.”

“You called it?” Kei asks, hoping he was being subtle. Kuroo picks up with it.

“Yeah, I did,” he says, almost challengingly, and Kei just stares at him, “There a problem?”

“No! No… there isn’t...” Kei told him, and Kuroo looked like he wanted to press further, but he didn’t. Kei had far too much circling around and around in his head, questioning, questioning, new ideals, new thoughts. Everything he thought he knew and understood about society, about people’s attitudes and expectations, about _his own_ attitudes and expectations were being thrown around in a hurricane of doubt, or worry, and unadulterated fear that made Kei want to do nothing more than retreat.

Kei gulped, and looked back over to Kuroo, “How long have they been… wait, they’re boyfriends, right?”

Kuroo grinned, like satisfied with something, “Yeah, they’re boyfriends. And I think they got together around Christmas. Good riddance too.”

“Good riddance?”

“You hear how Bokuto talks normally, yeah?”

“Loud, annoying, and dramatic?”

“Now add _Uuuu Kuroo, do you think Akaashi likes me? Or does he_ hate _me? Kuroo! He’s so pretty I’m going to die!!_ ” Kuroo’s impression of Bokuto made Kei snicker slightly, “It was hell to endure, but they got together in the end and I haven’t gone deaf, so all is well. They’re good for each other.”

“I think I’m more shocked that Akaashi can keep him that quiet.” Lie. Complete lie.

“Threatening to withhold kisses unless he kept his voice down a little does that,” Kuroo told him, “You should have seen the look of absolute devastation on his face.” The memory was obviously something truly hilarious, and the more Kei tried to picture the shock, the hurt, the _betrayal_ that would etch every inch of Bokuto’s face, he has to hide the grin on his face.

“He’s still really loud, though.”

“He gets excitable, but how he’s being with Akaashi now, that’s something you won’t find with anyone else.”

Those two must be incredibly special to each other, then. Kei knew the setter and ace pairs were supposed to be the strongest you could ever find, and they were supposed to be a truly sacred bond. A good ace and a good setter would stay with each other forever, but these two. These two weren’t just an ace and a setter. They had something more, something even more special than that bond of trust.

Kei didn’t sleep very well that night.

☆☆☆☆

Kuroo Tetsurou was gay.

He said it himself, moaning and groaning to Nekoma’s tiny libero about how fucking _gay_ he was, and how much it hurt his soul. Kei would have thought he was joking, the way he’d occasionally laugh as Yaku would give him some sort of borderline mean retort, or a deadpan stare, and he’d just ramp it up.

Kei thought it was some kind of weird joke, the way the two interacted, but they just acted normally for the rest of the day, Yaku occasionally teasing Kuroo, asking if his _gay thoughts_ were stopping him from shutting down so many spikes in between telling Lev rather savagely that while he was short, it just meant that he was _this much closer_ to knee capping him. Yaku was brutal, Kei thought, but it didn’t stop Kuroo from saying things just as brutally back. It was teasing, casual, and nobody had anything to say for it. It was as though it was something that happened regularly, and nobody said anything of it (except maybe the referees, who were diligently telling the two to stop being so loud).

Even in free practice, everything was normal. He blocked as normal, gave his advice and feigned insults to Lev, Hinata, and himself, and taunted and taunted like nobody’s business. He played exceptionally, and that was nothing out of the ordinary.

They finished their mini-match not long before dinner was due to be served, and after they packed away the equipment they had used, Kei met up with him at the entryway. Kuroo seemed to understand that Kei wanted to say something, so he said nothing.

“Kuroo-san, uh—“ How should he phrase this? Getting this one phrase wrong was going to effect how Kuroo viewed him, and how he would have to act around other people. “About earlier…”

“With Yaku?’

God damned psychic. “Yeah.”

They were silent, “I’m gay, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Kuroo asks, quizzing Kei. Kei just shrugs.

“Yeah, okay.”

Kuroo hummed in appreciation, and the two walked together in silence. Their shoes scuffed against the concrete walkway leading into the school, and Kuroo grabbed the hem of Kei’s shirt right before they had to part ways. Kei’s head turned, and he was only met with a blob of messy, dark hair.

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Just… thanks.” Kuroo finally lifted his face, and then turned on his heel, walking away. Kei watched him, and as he was about to turn the corner, Kei yelled out.

“Don’t thank me for something that should be a given.”

And he didn’t look back. He didn’t stop to think about the hypocrisy in his own words, he didn’t stop to take a breath as he all but sprinted back to Karasuno’s room. He didn’t stop to consider that maybe that attitude should be turned around on himself, either.

Kei only thought of it when, at dinner, he met Kuroo’s eyes, and Kuroo gave him a bright smile that could only be matched by the light of the sun, and Kei can’t help but give him one back.

Kei left the camp with a weird feeling about Kuroo, and as he finally shut his eyes, he pictured that smile, that beaming, happy smile, and Kei can’t help but think _shit, I might be gay._

☆☆☆☆

There was so much to think about after that training camp. There were so many ideas, so many beliefs and thoughts and feelings that Kei didn’t even know where to begin to start. Volleyball, volleyball was easy. He didn’t put effort into volleyball because he cared too much; he cared too much about his brother, about his pride, about losing, about not being _good enough_. That was easy, that was simple. It didn’t need to be overanalysed, because oh god he knew exactly why he was doing this.

Kuroo, Kuroo has ruined _everything_ he built up. He talked so casually about sexuality, _his own_ sexuality, like it was totally normal and fine and if he was talking to anyone else it would be fine. His self-confidence, his way of talking as though he was comforting Kei, it just destroyed everything.

No, he didn’t destroy anything. Kuroo made him _think_. He made him question, and wonder, and the more he thought about Kuroo the more the idea of liking other boys started to feel right, started to feel like he wasn’t the one in the wrong. The more he thought of Kuroo the more he thought of things that a younger him would feel sick over, in fear, fear of himself, of what he was. Kissing him. Touching him. Laughing with him, smiling with him. Going on dates. Kissing him. Kissing him. Kissing him.

He wanted to kiss Kuroo. Oh, he wanted to kiss Kuroo so bad. Just once, just to see if his lips really were as soft as they looked when he was telling Bokuto to shut his owl trap. Just once, to stop him from criticising his attitude, his block, his scowl. Just once, to see how it feels kissing someone who truly did not care what society thought of him. Once, to see if he really was someone who was deserving of Kei’s stupid crush. Once, just because he could, just because he wanted to kiss another boy because he was gay, he was fucking gay, and there was absolutely nothing anyone could do about it.

He wanted to see, oh he wanted to see if Kuroo’s ass really looked as good as it did in those forsaken red shorts, if his long legs were really as nice as they looked when he clawed at them. He wanted to see if Kuroo looked as good as he looked when Kei pictured him hovering over him, kissing his neck, nipping at his skin, down and down until he—

Tsukishima Kei was gay. Tsukishima Kei was gay, and he was going to stop denying it because he knew it now, and he knew he couldn’t hide it. He couldn’t deny this irreversible fact because there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, and if one of Japan’s top spikers and his setter can be in a relationship, why can’t he be in one? Tsukishima Kei was gay, and oh it was oh so freeing. Not having to lie to himself, not having to force himself to think about girls, or think about no one at all when a cute boy caught his eye, and best of all, not having this chunk of himself hidden behind this wall.

But then…

Oh shit, he was gay. How was he ever going to explain this? How was he supposed to go about his daily life keeping this tucked into his chest, not speaking, not flaunting. He wasn’t anything like Bokuto or Akaashi or Kuroo – he didn’t have that same endless confidence, the same bravery and skill and talent and likeability that they had.

He was aware that not many people liked him that much, and he was fully aware that this realisation was now going to add an even bigger target on his back. His snark and mean comments could only get him so far, and he knew that no matter what he did, there’d always be someone who’d step up to him, because _every homo needs it beaten out of them._

He remembered his own father, Akiteru’s ex-girlfriend. He remembered the way they talked, the way they looked down on him for defending something he believed in. The way he defended something that should be _basic human rights_ , for not considering the fact that they were making a kid, a very young, very impressionable kid cry himself to sleep because he hated what he was, because he was trying so desperately to hide what he knew he was, for making him feel guilty just for _existing._

He thought back to Suzuki-chan, her crying figure on the swing set, the way her shoulders shook and the chains rattled in her grip. He thought back to the way Yamaguchi called out to her, telling her it was supposed to rain, and he remembered the face she had, the way she reacted, her small frame running away from the two. He remembered seeing her a second time, when he was alone, smile bright as she talked to another girl equally as pretty as her, and the way the two laughed and swung together with no care in the world.

He remembered Bokuto and Akaashi, their intimate moment, how precious it was in that small moment. He remembered how casually Kuroo talked about it, how casually _they all_ talked about it, as though everyone in the world was alright with it, as though it was normal. He remembered how Kuroo talked to him, how he saw through every wall, every mask Kei had put up after all those years, and how he put a single, accepting hand out and Kei had practically fallen over himself to take it, and take it he did.

He remembered Kuroo’s face as he thanked Kei, as he smiled at him across the dining room, as he gave him a quick wink as the bus left, and he buried his face into knees, breathing very carefully.

“Fuck.” he whispered into his knees, “Why him? Of all people…”

His glasses rested beside him, and Kei made no attempt to move his position even when heard footsteps in the hallway nearing him, he did not care. He didn’t care when there was a knock at the door, and his brother’s voice asking if he could enter. Akiteru knew no response was a good response, and he slid Kei’s door open quietly. Kei didn’t know what Akiteru looked like, all he knew was that he had sat down beside him, and said nothing, but his presence was enough.

“You… you don’t care if people are gay, right?” Kei’s voice was soft, timid. Very unlike him, but also something that really Akiteru had only heard before. Kei cared very much for his older brother, he cared for him so much, pushed him away because he cared so much and was hurt, and they were finally healing, and Kei was able to feel vulnerable because he _knew_ his brother, and he knew that Akiteru would love him no matter what happened.

Kei knew, because he lied for him, for his sake, so that Kei’s image of his brother wasn’t ruined by the actual Akiteru, but Kei didn’t care, and he didn’t understand, but he did, he understood so much, and he knew why Akiteru did it, but didn’t understand _why._

Akiteru shifted closer to Kei, and cocked his head to the side. Kei knew, he was watching him carefully from the corner of his eye. Akiteru shrugged, and shook his head, “Doesn’t really change who they are, so not really. As long as they aren’t hurting anyone, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Kei moved closer this time, feeling the warmth of his brother – the comfort, the security of knowing that _someone_ was there for him, and someone who knew his little brother, who knew all of his idiosyncrasies and habits and emotions so well, and knew exactly how to deal with all of them. He let out a shuddering breath, and leaned into his brother’s knees, and Akiteru pulled him in to his chest, holding him tight as the first sob left Kei’s mouth, and _boy_ was he glad not to be wearing his glasses right now because they would be thrown to the other side of the room in anger, in fear.

Akiteru’s breathing was stable and warm and so familiar and Kei couldn’t help but cry harder, even when his brother rested his chin on his head, and whispered small comforts, small promises, and even singing softly, the same song he always sings. Kei’s sobbed echoed through his room, echoed in his head, in his heart. His throat ached, his vision was far more blurred than usually, and everything in his body was aching.

Kei felt like a bath with the water being let out, starting off small, before one giant push, and he just lets go of so much, so much hurt, so many crumpled walls broken down. All of these walls, all of his security, gone with a single realisation, a single word, a phrase that was so innocent, but had such a big weight on it.

“Nii-chan—“ he hiccupped, “Nii—“

“Kei.” Akiteru’s voice was soft, gentle, understanding. His voice was like a newly washed duvet, the one Kei would snuggle into, curling up and feeling it’s warmth, no matter what the season was.

“Kuroo, he— I don’t— Nii-chan, I’m so scared—!”

“Shh, I know,” Akiteru’s arms tightened around him.

“Nii-chan… I’m gay… Ugh, I’m gay, and I can’t— I can’t stop thinking about it, and I just—“

“Kei,” Akiteru interrupted, “You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”

Kei’s head snapped up, and he realised how pathetic he must look, still hiccupping, cheeks red and eyes wide and still stinging, searching his brother’s face with extreme difficulty, and Akiteru did nothing but smile at him. “You don’t—You don’t care…?”

“You could grow an extra head and I wouldn’t care, Kei.” Akiteru’s voice was so warm, so accepting, and Kei bit his lip and nodded, “Is Kuroo the boy you like?” Akiteru made no move to unwrap Kei, but he laughed softly when he felt Kei stiffen slightly as he sniffed and wiped his eyes. “What’s he like?”

Kei took a shuddering breath, and sighed, “He’s… He’s on Nekoma. And he, he’s the captain, and he’s so good, so so good, you have _no idea_.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s a middle blocker, and he’s just—wow.”

“Wow?” Akiteru laughed, and Kei nodded, not really knowing how to explain it. He felt like a god damn kid again, and he supposed it was some weird way of all the years he didn’t have around his brother (all due to his own idiocy, his own stubbornness and melancholy).

“He’s so good at it, he has all the timing, and all the technique right and he’s like a damn _cat_ with everything he does, it’s so _annoying_.” Kei rambles, “And—And, he’s like— he’s such an ass, and he is really provocative and snarky and he makes really shitty jokes and puns with Bokuto-san, and he’s so _stupid_ , but he’s really not.”

“A real ass, then?”

“No, he’s really not. He’s an ass, but he’s so _kind_ , it’s so infuriating. He’s so kind and he helps everyone and he knows everything and he just—ugh.”

Akiteru watches Kei in fascination as he just keeps talking. “And he’s got stupid hair. Like, really stupid. It’s a bed head and it sticks up everywhere but I bet it’s really soft because he doesn’t use product, Bokuto-san said when Hinata asked. And guess what.”

“Mm, what?”

“He’s gay too. What are the odds?”

“I could look it up if you want.” Kei turned to face him, and no matter how embarrassed and real he felt, his done face lost none of his power, and Akiteru grinned. “He sounds great. Do you have a picture?”

Kei nods, and untangles himself from Akiteru, grabbing his glasses and sliding them on the bridge of his nose. He reaches for his phone on his bed, and unlocks it, looking through his gallery for the picture in question.

Kei’s gallery mainly consisted of dumb snapchats from his teammates (videos of them doing stupid shit, or the terrible zoomed in faces Yamaguchi and Nishinoya usually sent him. He had a few from Bokuto and Akaashi, and a bit more than a few from Kuroo, which are all unflattering as the other). He had a few pictures of random things he thought looked cool, and the occasional funny thing, but most of the time it was just those. 

Kei looked for one in particular. A forced group shot of all of those who participated in the Cats vs Owls 3-on-3’s. Hinata bounced in the air next to Lev, who was smiling wildly and happily. Akaashi and Bokuto were together, Bokuto smiling brightly and cheerfully, and Akaashi more subtly – Bokuto had his arms wrapped around Akaashi, who didn’t seem to mind it as much as he complained afterwards. Kuroo was the one taking the picture, grinning wildly at the camera, and he had his arm around Kei, holding him in place. Kei would only allow the tiniest of smiles, but really he was telling Kuroo off before, during, and after the event. Kei pointed, and showed Akiteru.

“See what I mean by shitty hair.”

Akiteru takes the phone from him, and observes it closely. Kei looks at him in anticipation, watching for any sort of reaction in his face, before Akiteru handed it back, and smiling, “You look nice together.”

Kei gapes at him, and clears his throat, looking away. He could feel his face heating up, as he mutters a quick _shut up_. Akiteru watched him in amazement as he buried his face into his knees again, and groaned. Kei was flustered, and _holy shit_ was it cute.

“You really are cute, Kei.” Akiteru’s statement only manages to produce an even louder groan, and he can’t help feel proud of himself, in a way, “Do you feel better?”

“A little bit.” Kei turns his head, “What am I gonna tell Mother and Father?”

“You don’t really have to tell them anything, do you? It’s your business, not theirs.”

Kei sighs, “I know, but—“

“You feel like you’re lying to them if you don’t,” Akiteru concludes, “Kei, if it’s okay for me to ask, how long have you been struggling with this?”

Kei stops, breath heavy. How long _had_ he been thinking about, or rather, denying, this? It had been so long, so _so_ long. Ever since… Ever since… “I don’t know, it’s always just kind of… been here."

“So, as long as you remember?” Akiteru asks gently, and Kei nods, “Why did you struggle so much in the first place?”

“Because—“ Kei stopped, eyes averted, “Because I was afraid.”

“Of?”

“…people’s reaction’s…”

“Whose?”

“Mother’s, father’s, yours-! Everyone!” Kei was exasperated, and Akiteru gave him a look of consideration.

“Look, Kei,” Akiteru grabbed his shoulders, and thought for a moment. Truth be told, Akiteru had _no idea_ how to deal with this sort of situation, “I think—I think I kind of knew that you weren’t… I dunno, ‘the same’ as most other kids. I just didn’t think it would be about this, I thought you had, like, killed a man, or something.”

“Why would I kill a man?”

“Who knows? Maybe they pushed you too far.” Akiteru sighed, “But honestly, if you thought I would hate you or whatever went through your head for this, then I would be the crappiest brother _ever_. Okay? And I think—I think that if you just surround yourself with people who don’t mind, and accept you for _you_ , than nobody else’s opinion will matter.”

Akiteru let out a breath, “I‘m not sure I’m the most qualified person to say this, but if you like Kuroo, go for it. And if worst comes to worst, that’s that.” His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Akiteru took a quick look at it, before letting go.

“You going to be okay on your own for a while?”

Kei nodded, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay, I need to go then.” He pushes himself up, and ruffles Kei’s short hair, before heading to the door, “See you, Kei.”

“Nii-chan,” Kei stops him, “Um, y’know… Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me for something that should be a given.” Akiteru tells him, before shutting his door.

_Don’t thank me for something that should be a given. Don’t thank me for something that should be a given. Don’t thank me for something that should be a given. Don’t thank me for something that should be a given. Don’t thank me for something that should be a given. Don’t thank me for something that should be a given._

Kei smirked, ever so slightly, and hugged his knees again. At least Akiteru cared.

Perhaps it might not be that bad.

☆☆☆☆

“Yo, Tsukishima!”

Nishinoya’s voice always loud and abrupt, but it always had meaning and a purpose. Kei didn’t make any effort to turn around for him, but he did slow his steps so the tiny libero could catch up to him. Nishinoya bounced next to him, and Kei looked at it him out of the corner of his eye.

“You seem less angsty, and all—“ Nishinoya made a foul scowl, as if imitating Kei, “Ya know, did something happen?”

Kei didn’t really want to tell Nishinoya about his sexual awakening, and kind of not-really crush on Kuroo, so he just shrugged, but Nishinoya had ideas of his own.

“Ooo, do you like someone, Tsukishima? That must be it! Who is she? Tsukishima! If you snatch a babe I don’t think I can live with myself.”

Nishinoya’s boundless energy and enthusiasm was quite innocent really, but Kei couldn’t help get slightly annoyed with him, “What’s it matter?”

“So you _do_ like someone!”

Kei’s feet shuffle against the ground, “Maybe a little… I think… I don’t know.”

The warm lights of sundown danced around the two. Kei’s hair shone brilliantly like a golden sea, and the shadows made his face just that bit darker. No light managed to escape Nishinoya, as though it radiated from him. The stores around them were bustling with people, chatting among themselves.

Nishinoya and Tsukishima, excluding Hinata, lived the furthest away from Karasuno. The others lived within ten minutes, whereas they pushed half an hour if they went quite slowly. Tsukishima sometimes saw Nishinoya walking back from where he stood, but he never really paid any mind to him.

“Hm?” Nishinoya suddenly quietened, and Kei was almost grateful, “You don’t know?”

“I don’t know, really… it’s just kind of scary…”

“Tsukishima,” Nishinoya was rather upfront now, “is it a boy?” Kei stopped fully, and Nishinoya nodded to himself, while Kei breathed deeply. “Thought so. You had this look when I mentioned my cousin, I wanted to test it.” Nishinoya slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers, and walked a step in front of Tsukishima.

“But—“

“I don’t think anyone else has caught on, don’t worry. Yamaguchi suspects something’s happened with you, though. He asked me if I noticed something.”

“Oh…”

Nishinoya hummed in consideration, then quizzes, “If you don’t mind telling me, who is it?”

Kei stopped to think for a moment, and Nishinoya stopped and faced him. If Kei told Nishinoya about this, he had the strangest feeling that he wouldn’t be judged one bit. Nishinoya was the kind of casual person who really would not care if you just told him you murdered someone, he’d ask where you hid the body. Kei also felt talking to someone like Sugawara (who was renowned for his advice and friendliness) would be rather intimidating to approach, and would almost come on too strong.

“Promise you won’t tell?” Kei almost felt like a small child asking this, his voice far softer and scared than he would have liked. Nishinoya held out his pinkie, and Kei stared at it, before linking his own wordlessly. Nishinoya grinned widely at him. “…Kuroo…”

“Kuroo, as in _Nekoma_ Kuroo?!” Nishinoya jumped back, staring at him like he grew an extra head, “As in, loud, provocative asshole with messy hair Kuroo?!”

“The one and only,” Kei rolled his eyes, voice low and dark. Nishinoya watches him again, and Kei thinks that he’s been doing that a lot lately, before nodding.

“I can see it. What’s so attractive about him, Tsukishima? Ooh! I bet it’s his back muscles, or his legs. His legs are pretty hot, aye? And he’s got the whole confidence thing going on, it’s really hot.” Nishinoya rambles, and Kei positively gapes at him, “Or is it that smirk of his, and the way he like—he fucking teases everyone, and you tease everyone. Like attracts like and stuff.”

“Nishinoya-san, wha—“

“His ass is pretty good too. Well, more than good! Fantastic!” Nishinoya looked please with himself, a smirk upon his lips like he was picturing what he had just said.

“Nishinoya-san!” Tsukishima’s voice rose, ears heating up red. He desperately hoped Nishinoya wouldn’t notice it. Well, maybe it wasn’t his ears. He felt like he had just been to the beach without any sun cream on, and was a living and breathing beetroot.

“Yeah?”

“What are you even—“ _saying,_ Tsukishima wanted to ask, but Nishinoya had other ideas. He always seemed to.

“You’re so red, that’s kinda cute,” Nishinoya told him, and tapped his back lightly, motioning him to keep walking. “I think you should go for it, to be honest.”

“I don’t think I should be taking advice from someone who can’t pick up a date himself,” Tsukishima snarked, and Nishinoya scoffed.

“As if you’re any better. I bet you stared at his ass when you practiced with him.”

“I’d stare at yours too if you _had_ one.”

Nishinoya made an indignant noise, before sliding over and bumping his hip against Tsukishima’s. Tsukishima jumped away, and scowled at him, and he did nothing but smile cheekily. “Seriously though, Tsukishima, go for it. You’ll be fine.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” Nishinoya’s voice was genuinely curious, like he actually _could not_ understand how this situation would be hard for Tsukishima.

“Because I’m not—he’s—“

“Tsukishima, do you mind if I tell you a story?”

Tsukishima allows it, “So long as I don’t get emotionally scarred from it.”

“I’m bisexual, yeah?” Nishinoya tells him, voice dropping, “And before my cousin came out, I was pretty terrified about it. I kinda thought I could get away with it because girls are really beautiful and all that. But I guess after he came out he was like to me ‘you should say too’ and I said the same thing you did.”

“That it’s not simple?”

“Yup. And you know what he told me?” Nishinoya nudged him, “That you never really know what will happen until you do it, so just do it.”

“Is it really even that easy?”

“It was for me. I told my parents I liked boys as well and they were all good with it, and I imagine Kuroo would be the same. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would hate you just because you like him.”

Tsukishima considered this for a moment, “But how would I even—“

“Quit doubting yourself, jeez!” Nishinoya slapped his arm, and Kei jumped away. “You’re not going to be able to do anything if you keep that attitude up!

“But—“

“You are going to _get_ Kuroo’s butt, or I’m going to sue!” Nishinoya exclaimed loudly, pointing at him like a drama protagonist, “Claim that boys glorious ass or die trying!”

“Nishinoya-san… That’s kind ominous…”

“Well that’s the way you’re acting!”

“Is not.”

“Is so, you beanpole!” Nishinoya yelled louder than necessary (Nishinoya’s voice was usually louder than necessary, though), “Ask the boy out for the love of all things holy! Argh!”

“Must you yell?”

“Must you be so insistent on the worst happening?!”

“And if it does?”

Nishinoya rolls on his heels, “Then you take it as it is, and move on. That simple. If the guy says no to something that really is not that bad, then his loss, I say!”

“You think I'm not that bad, hey?” Tsukishima snickered, and Nishinoya nodded.

“You have very nice legs, even if your ass is lacking. They’re like… damn.”

“Um, thanks? I guess you’re short enough to tell.”

“Damn you, Tsukishima!”

And they continued like this, until they reached the crossroads where they had to split ways. Nishinoya stopped Tsukishima from walking off.

“If you ever… need any advice, you can always come ask me. I get the feeling Suga-san might a bit too over the top for you, so…”

“Sugawara-san is over the top and you aren’t?” Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, and Nishinoya gave him a look.

“You know what I mean. Come talk to me if you want. And _when_ you two do your stupid little smooch thing, I expect details Tsukishima, details!”

“…Right…”

“See you at practice tomorrow!” Nishinoya bounded away, waving at him, and Kei gave a stiff one back, before turning off. “Also, Tsukishima!”

Kei turned around expectantly, and all he got was Nishinoya bending over, his backside fully on parade, “What you do you mean ‘no ass’, huh?”

“Even with my glasses I can’t see anything.”

“You’ll admit it one day!" 

And when Kei turned away, and he was certain that Nishinoya would not be able to hear him, he allowed himself a laugh as he walked back to his house. Nishinoya really was an unexpected help, but Kei really did appreciate it.

☆☆☆☆

In the week leading up to the next time Kei saw Kuroo he resolved to do two things:

  1. Think of ten things he could reasonably say to get Kuroo alone, so that he could talk to him about his little… yeah. Ten simple things that wouldn’t raise suspicion amongst not only his teammates, but Bokuto and Akaashi as well. The two of them finding out would be absolutely disastrous, as Akaashi tends to have quite the sharp tongue, whipping out teasing and scolding at the drop of a hat (Kei quite liked that about him really), while Bokuto would make it so everyone in the god damn _country_ would know about Kei’s crush.
  2. Actually do that. Find some way to implement his plan to confess to Kuroo. Which wouldn’t be so bad except for the fact that Kei _kinda_ sucked with anything to do with emotions, especially those that are of a positive nature. The fact that he always knew the right retort meant nothing here, as it was purely his own doing. He had a feeling Kuroo knew this ( _Yeah, Kuroo and everyone else who I’ve ever met_ , Kei thought bitterly), and would exploit it for snark. Kei would then lose his cool, and chicken out (as usual).



The second seemed much easier than the third at this point. Just thinking of a way that he could even bring it up without wanting to pack his bedroom up and move to New Zealand to live in isolation, tending to sheep in the hills, was an ordeal in itself. Kei didn’t realise he could _be_ this blushy and embarrassed when it came to anything (or in this case, _anyone_ ), and he was really starting to wonder if he was possessed.

Kei just… he really did not want to screw this up. Not being a people-person put him behind _immensely_ , and any sort of relationship advice he would find would be directed towards confessing to a _girl_ , who was small and pretty and delicate and shy and everything that Kuroo _was not_.

Kuroo was sharp angles and nice muscles and stupid grins. He was puns and self-confidence and genuine kindness. He was tall and handsome (oh so handsome), and he was an absolute, complete foreign animal to Kei. Kei had absolutely no idea how to deal with someone so… well, Kei didn’t really know what to call him.

Kei supposed he could go down the classic route, ‘hey, can I talk to you about something?’ he felt that if he did that it would be met with something more like a game strategy. He could be incredibly upfront, or physically drag Kuroo off somewhere private so he could—

Kei turned his head, and looked out the window of the bus. Two days, two days and then the next time he sees Kuroo is after the prelims (if they go through, if they _both_ go through. Now is no time to imagine himself kissing—

He really needed to stop. Maybe take a nap, hibernate for twenty years and come back completely the same, except maybe less filthy. Perhaps he needed a shower, but the kind of filth he was beginning to think of was something that couldn’t be washed off in the shower, and _oh god_ , the shower—

_Grandmothers. Puppies. The weird gum Nishinoya-san was dared to eat. Bucket hats. Wet bread, the glue underneath his desk, anything, anything but Kuroo—_

This was going to be one _long_ bus ride.

 ☆☆☆☆ 

**From: Akiteru**

_you should be able to find the right words in the right moment, you always do_

**To: Akiteru**

_I have absolute /no/ idea how people do this. This is absolute hell._

**From: Akiteru**

_if it comes to it, just yell I LIKE YOU, and then run onto the bus and leave the prefecture_

**To: Akiteru**

_Well aren’t you a bundle of help._

**From: Akiteru**

_i aim to help B))_

_keep me posted_

**To: Akiteru**

_Absolutely not._

☆☆☆☆

Kei never thought he would be found saying this, but _bless Bokuto’s soul_.

Well, sort of. The owlish captain had dragged Akaashi off somewhere, and Kei could only assume that by the sounds Bokuto was making, it wouldn’t be somewhere very pretty. However, it did mean he had some time alone with Kuroo, so mentally, Kei was thankful. Sort of.

He was _totally unprepared_ for what he wanted to do. Almost painfully so, as he racked his brain for any possible way to bring it up, but the silence between them was almost painful. Kuroo probably didn’t think so. As someone who didn’t like the feeling of silence, of nothing filling in the gaps of things said and things left unsaid, it made Kei uneasy. Like there was nothing shielding him.

But then, then a miracle happened. The strumming of guitars snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked around for the source. There was a phone in Kuroo’s hand, and Kuroo grinned.

“Too quiet, sorry.”

“I was kind of thinking the same thing, it’s fine…”

Then it was quiet again, but not silent. Kei appreciated it, in a way. It made him far more at ease, in his comfort zone. Sort of. Still that nagging thought of _you want to kiss him, just do it_ in his head, but Kei was working on that. Sort of. The two of them sat side by side, tapping away at their phones like nobody’s business. Kuroo looked like he was playing some cat game, whereas Kei was reading random articles on _Wikipedia_.

“This is kind of awkward.” Kei mutters, and Kuroo looks up from his phone, and over to Kei. He shrugs.

“A little. You play _Neko Atsume_?” That must be the game he’s playing, Kei thought, and he furrowed his brows.

“Wha—“

Kuroo interrupted him, scandalised, “You haven’t lived, Tsukki. Here, look.” And so Kuroo showed him everything about the game, pointing and showing him all of his cats, and Kei really didn’t understand the point, but Kuroo seemed pretty happy about it so he listened intently.

“Are you a cat or dog person, Tsukki?” Kuroo asked, and Kei figured it was an innocent enough question, so he answered honestly.

“Dogs are really hyper, and exhausting… Cats are nice.” Kei tells him, and Kuroo nods.

“They’re pretty cute, aren’t they?”

“I guess…?” Kei didn’t really understand what Kuroo was getting at, but he nodded along anyway. There must be some sort of ulterior motive going through his head right now, and Kei _really_ wanted to know what it was.

“You know what else is cute?” There it is. Kei didn’t really know what else to expect, but years of exposure to cheeky human beings made him realise that ulterior motives are everywhere.

“What?” Kei’s voice came out a bit more exasperated than intended, but Kuroo grinned softly (a first), and rested his head on his knees, not once breaking eye contact with Kei.

“You.”

And just like that, Kei’s brain short circuits, and he stares at Kuroo dumbly. _Him_ , Kei, cute. Kuroo—holy—what?

“Huh?”

“I think you’re pretty cute Tsukki,” Kuroo grins, “and really red right now, wow.”

“Quit speaking from your ass.” Kei rolls his eyes, and pointedly looks away from him. He didn’t deny the fact that he was bright red, and he was undeniably _extremely_ flattered, and extremely embarrassed. He was sure that Kuroo saw right through his ass, but when Kuroo just gave him these fond eyes, with little crinkles and stars within them, Kei couldn’t help but become even redder.

“I didn’t think it was possible for a person to go that red, but here we are.”

“I’m not cute.”

“You kind of are.”

The matter-of-fact-ness in Kuroo’s voice only solidified Kei’s embarrassment, and he buried his face in his hands. Kuroo’s tiny snort was really unattractive, and Kei really shouldn’t be this embarrassed, but when Kuroo casually slung an arm around Kei’s shoulder and pulled him closer, Kei couldn’t help but curl up against him, especially since it would help cover his face.

But then it hit him.

Kuroo was incredibly warm, and despite his build, was incredibly snuggly. His arm, still wrapped around Kei, held him close, like a comforting blanket. Kei found himself hugging into Kuroo’s chest, not daring to look up at his face, because Kei knew that if he did, his face would be right back into his shoulder.

Kuroo rested his head on Kei’s, and smiled softly, “Tsukki.”

“Yeah?”

“You looked like you wanted to say something before. What—"

“I like you.” Kei said quickly, ripping off the Band-Aid. “A little bit. I think.”

“You think?” Kei didn’t see Kuroo’s reaction, but since he wasn’t letting go in disgust, or yelling anything, Kei figured it would be safe to continue.

“I mean—I’m not really sure what it’s like to like someone, really, but I think this is it? I dunno…”

Kuroo laughed, but not a malicious sort of laugh like the boys in elementary school, and pulled Kei’s face up to stare at his, and there were no signs of repulsion, or hatred, or anything of the likes. In fact, he looked kind of relieved, happy even.

“I don’t really have much experience with that sort of thing either—“

“Bullshit.”

“—but I think, just maybe, I might find you a little bit cute. Or handsome. And you have a nice butt Tsukki.”

“Shut the hell up.” Kei tells him, but then he bites his lip, “You’re… you aren’t joking, are you? Like a trick?”

“No trick, no jokes.”

“ _Really_?”

Kuroo grins, “Tsukki, might it be alright with you if I kiss you?”

“If you—“ Kei hesitated ever so slightly, all the things that he’s been told about kissing boys in the past running through his head. He thought of all the times he’s imagined kissing Kuroo, what it would feel like, and he takes a deep breath, “It would be alright.”

With newfound permission, leans his head to the side, but then he stops abruptly. “This is like, a really awkward angle. Can we, I dunno, stand up or something?”

“Wha—Kuroo, can’t you just—“

“I mean, I could possibly mess this up and I _really_ don’t want to, so I mean, it’s probably best for everyone if we just stand up and kiss.”

“It isn’t rocket science, Kuroo—“

“Tsukki! Please just stand up so I can smooch you!”

“And they say romance is dead.” Kei rolls his eyes, and Kuroo awkwardly manoeuvres around him and holds a hand out for Kei to grab, “Why do I even—you’re such a dork, this is unreal.”

“You can finally know what you signed up for.” He pulled Kei up with ease, and now the two stood face to face, closer than any normal friends would be.

“Kuroo, I swear, if you don’t kiss me right now—“

And so Kuroo did, and it wasn’t exactly as Kei had imagined it, much more dorky and unsure than the experienced person Kei had envisioned, but it was still Kuroo, and it was still lovely and surreal and really, really _great_. Kuroo’s lips were soft against his own chapped ones, and Kei didn’t really mind that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing, and neither did Kuroo, because it was with Kuroo and that was all that really mattered with Kei. Kei’s glasses knocked against Kuroo’s nose, and his cheeks, and it was _really_ hard to move his face without some awkward mushing and _what are you meant to do with your tongue?_

And so they broke apart, and Kei didn’t really know what to do, but Kuroo seemed to have some sort of idea, because he grabbed Kei’s waist and pulled him even closer, but then he whispered, “Your glasses kind of really suck, can you like, take them off or something?”

“It’s not my fault I can’t see.”

“I’m gonna get bruises from them! They hurt!”

“Fine!”

Kei removed his glasses with much more force than necessary, holding them loosely between his fingers and kissed him again, and again, and until Kei lost count, and it was wonderful and even better than he imagined, and _oh god_ , why didn’t he admit he was gay sooner if it meant kissing a boy like this.

“Tsukki—“

“Kei. My name is Kei.”

“I’m Tetsurou.”

Kei could feel Kuroo hum against his lips, and he stuck his tongue out to try and lick his lower lip, and it felt really weird, and Kei parted his lips like they described in all of the books and filmed in all of the movies and Kuroo hesitantly did some sort of weird, little tongue thing that Kei didn’t really know how to describe but it felt kind of nice so he let Kuroo do it again, but Kuroo became more daring, and he moved his head a little further and suddenly he was biting down on Kei’s lip, and Kei jumped back, and hit him.“Absolutely not, do not do that again.”

“No good?”

“You bit me, of course it’s no good.”

“Some people are into that, you know.” Kuroo winked, and Kei’s eyebrows rose.

“No.”

“I got it, I got it.” And Kuroo kissed him again, and Kei was rather hesitant and afraid once again but the way Kuroo’s tongue lips glided over Kei’s, Kei couldn’t help but let his name slip once, or twice, or maybe a few more times, because it felt so nice to say it, and when Kuroo said Kei’s own name on his lips Kei couldn’t help but deepening it, and—

“WE’LL COME BACK LATER THEN!”

There was Bokuto’s voice, and the two broke apart, and refused to make eye contact with both each other and Bokuto, and Kei could hear Akaashi’s pained sigh, and despite everything Kei couldn’t help but fend a smile from his lips as Kuroo yells at him to _LEAVE US THE HELL ALONE_ , and Akaashi forcing Bokuto away. 

Perhaps being gay wasn't too bad.

**Author's Note:**

> HOLY SHIT WOW ITS DONE
> 
> this fic was a small idea that escalated very quickly. i had a lot of fun writing it and just aaaaaaaaaaaa. some of the things that happened in this fic are based off of people around me and my own experiences so it was interesting to see how i could incorporate them like this for my fave character (sorry tsukki) so it was a good experience and i feel like over the course of this i discovered some new things and yeah
> 
> special thanks to:
> 
>  **[Noire](http://shadowhunterwiki.tumblr.com/)** for being my beta!! you helped me fix all my mistakes so thank you very much aaaaaaa
> 
>  **[Raine](http://futakuuchi.tumblr.com/)** for bullying me and making sure i don't procrastinate into school. its posted now, are you happy m8
> 
> and thank you to everyone who read this to the end!! it means a lot to me aaaa!!!
> 
> once again, title is from [this song!!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdzX-3MShaE&feature=youtu.be)


End file.
